The 2nd Sunday of Epiphany
January 6, 2013
The Very Rev. Anthony R. Pompa
January 6, 2013
The Very Rev. Anthony R. Pompa
Good morning! Happy New Year! And, Happy Epiphany! And it is happier now that we have heard that sweet voice. Thank you Massa, thank you!
So here we are. In the Gregorian calendar, we know that we have had our twelve days of Christmas, and this being the day that we mark the end of the Christmas season—that Christmas season where we are drawn into the humble mystery of the word made flesh. And we have been faithful in our prayers, and we have visited that holy crèche and I pray that in this Christmastide, that you were fed with love and nurture and pare of one another, and in doing that, you have enjoyed the very face of God.
But today we mark the end of the Christmas season. And we begin; we pray the beginning of the season of carnival and light. I don’t know about you but there are certain things that I’m a stickler about and ending things and beginning things are one of those things that I struggle with sometimes emotionally. It’s a family gift or curse, depending. But after today, there will be no more Christmas music played in my car or in my home. And there’s a 50-50 chance that the Christmas tree will come down tomorrow. That’s 50-50 because there seems to be a heavy lobby to leave it up. And for the first time in years my tree is not dying—I can’t believe it, it’s still alive, it’s still taking water—even as of this morning. The best tree I ever had. So it’s 50-50. But today is the day that we end this season and begin a season of carnival and light—the season of Epiphany.
This is a season that will lead us for a few weeks until the days of reflection and fasting that await us in Lent. In some European countries such as the Czech Republic and Slovakia, the season of Epiphany which begins, of course, on this day, the feast of the Epiphany, this season of carnival and light will be celebrated by children who will dress like three wise people that which we receive from our biblical story. These children will dress like these three wise people of long ago and they will visit houses in their neighborhoods in their roles as these wise people and they will sing songs. This is Russell’s idea—thank you Russell for having Massa sing to us. They will visit homes and they will sing sweet songs like the one we just heard. And they will tell their stories in song of paying homage to this King of Kings, who lies in a manger. They are rewarded for their visits with praise and with cookies—enough cookies already . . .
In Latin America, the celebration of Epiphany in some places goes like this. There it is the three wise people who come bringing gifts to children—not so much St. Nick. Children write letters to the wise people telling them of their desire for their own goodness in the coming year and what gifts they possess. And the worthiness of their goodness that enables them to receive gifts from these wise visitors.
In France, and yes I’m going to try it even with Mimi sitting in the front row. In France, La Galette des Rois, The Day of Kings is celebrated with parties for adults and for children. And the Galette des Rois or cake of the kings is served. If you come here at 5:30 on this afternoon, and I pray that you will, bring something to share and be ready to dance. We adults and children will gather in such a celebration and the cake of kings will be cut and shared.
In Spain, the children fill their shoes with straw or grain and place them by the door so that the camels of the three wise people might have something to eat. That seems very wise to me. The next day, they find again cookies and sweets or gifts in their shoes.
All these traditions have developed over time. And they speak to the rootedness of the biblical story of that hope filled and miraculous birth of a prophetically promised messiah, born to bring goodness and hope and worthy of homage and praise even by leaders and kings of the world’s distant empires. These are warm and sweet traditions. And we may observe our own in the season of Epiphany and they serve us well when they draw us near to the story and when they draw us near to the powerful promise of God’s presence in our own lives.
But, and there is always a but, but let us also be careful on this feast day of Epiphany when we come again anew to the Epiphany story—this story of stars and of kings and of gifts and of travel and of promise and of hope. Let us be careful that we do not be seduced into the potential to domesticate the story to the point of missing its intentional fierce character and its potential to call us to a new truth in a new year. That truth that when we dare to follow the stars of the night that lead us closer to the power of the Christ. We like the wise and most powerful ones of ancient times might be compelled to take a long and hard journey. This was not an easy journey for these wise men. Looking into the star they used the gifts that they possessed. Reading those stars compelled them; it disturbed them. It stirred them to leave the comfort of what they knew and set out on an undetermined journey. A journey that would first land them in Jerusalem, the rightful place to look for a king of Israel. Only there to be confronted, seduced and enticed by the power of the day in the person of Herod, who attempted to deceive them in the midst of his certain reading of threat to his power and control. This was not an easy journey. These wise men from afar using the gifts that they have been given to the best of their abilities. Following the star and journeying afar taking with them the purest of treasures in the hopes that they might kneel before one they have not yet met but whose promise they intuitively dare to give homage. We too might find ourselves in the truth. In the truth of this fierce story of what it means to come into the presence of God new and new and new. That it can be disturbing in the best best possible way. And stirring in the best best possible way. And it may lead us on a journey that we never expected to take. It may demand our time. It may demand our talents. And it may demand our treasure. And it may beg from us the most precious of what we have to be offered. And if live into this fierce story, we might also be quite aware that once we encounter and new the Christ, the road home is never the same. We’re always looking for another route home. Make no mistake, the story we read today is real. Our leaders come from afar seeking what they have intuitively known by the reading of the stars to something that is worthy of the best of who they are. The politics of the day will have them in the audience of Herrod who has demonstrated he will do anything to eliminate the threat to his rule. And that is the threat of Caesar’s rule. This was real to the folks living in these ancient times. The story of the gospel begins as this hoped for salvation for the nation of Israel promised by Isaiah to a people captive and living under another rule whose days often could be desperate buy whose hopes lived long. “Arise, shine,” Isaiah says, “for your light has come. For darkness shall cover the earth and thick darkness ______ peoples but the Lord will arise upon you in and his glory will have poured over you and nation’s shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn.”
Today is the day. Today is the day is what the story tells us. Arise and shine for our light has come. On this day in our story, the reader begins to recognize that the one who lies humbly in a manger is worshipped by these leaders of all nations beyond Israel. And the ancient truth that lies in that manger will stand against the harsh reality of Caesar and all that it means to live under oppression. So on this day for us here now in this place, you and I have the opportunity to stand in the truth of this story— the fierce truth of it. And to dare again to take a journey with these wise men. A new year begs a new beginning. Where do we dare follow anew the stars that will lead us to this holy one? What new roads or paths are we willing to take especially when they’re inconvenient? What precious things of our own being do we have to offer? What gifts shall we bring to this new year, this new reality, this new opportunity? And if we dare to go, are we willing to do so knowing that our path home cannot be the same?
Amen.
